Fluorescent Lights
by SumerianScribe
Summary: Freezing or not, he will never really be cold—not as long as she's there beside him. Oneshot; Bolin/Korra.


_Don't ask me when this takes place. I'm not sure. After the season finale, obviously. In the season two animatics, they seem to be back at one of the Water Tribes.. Let's just pretend they're back at the South Pole, for whatever reason. Bolin was shown wearing a parka at San Diego Comic Con, anyhow._

* * *

**fluorescent lights**

The South Pole is different in a lot of ways, and although Bolin is not a big fan of the freezing temperatures and the snowy sea of nothing, he finds that he kind of likes the pure, untouched silence of night-time. Republic City is always moving, always progressing, and it's never quiet—not even at two in the morning. The sounds of satomobiles used to lull him to sleep at night, and although he feels somewhat out of balance due to the sudden absence of city noises, Bolin thinks he can get used to quietness like this. All he can hear is the thrumming heartbeat of the earth and the occasional howls of wild animals. And Naga's even breathing, of course.

He leans back against the polar bear dog, sighing as he takes in the vast and empty black sky. He has always thought that there were more stars at night and that they just don't show themselves around the city. Maybe it's just a bad night for stargazing. _At least the moon is here_, the earthbender thinks, drawing some happiness from that. Back when he and Mako were still on the streets, every night he fell asleep with moonlight bathing the curves of his face.

"Aren't you cold?" an achingly familiar voice says from behind him. Korra steps quietly out from the rickety-looking building that they are sleeping in.

"Nah," Bolin says offhandedly. He grins and pats Naga. "I have a good heat source."

Shutting the door behind her, Korra sits herself on the snow next to him. She lays her head against Naga's body, and her face is so close to his that he can feel her frosty breath. "What were you doing out here?" she asks.

"I was, uh... looking for stars," the earthbender admits with a feeble smile, sounding just a little embarrassed. "What about you?"

"Couldn't sleep." She sighs and crosses her arms behind her head. Naga stirs a little, but doesn't wake up.

"Yeah," he says softly, "me, neither."

They are silent for a long time, a rare occurrence during daylight hours. Neither of them wants to ruin the calming quiet. Bolin closes his eyes and finds that, even then, he can still see the little moon floating around in his field of vision. His eyes open again and flit to the side, and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees her face against the moonlight, her ocean blue eyes illuminated in the darkness.

Korra's gaze flickers to him quizzically. He just gives her a faint smile in response, and she doesn't press him. "The moon is beautiful," he comments lightly, not mentioning that it's nothing in comparison to the girl lounging next to him. "My parents used to tell me stories about the moon, but I don't really remember any of them."

Her expression turns thoughtful. Bolin discovers that he loves watching the lines of her face move—so fluid and lively, reminding him somehow of the earth breathing. The earth breathing together with the cosmos... He shakes his head—_what am I thinking about? _Maybe lack of sleep turns him sentimental.

"You know," Korra says, and he realizes he almost forgot she was planning to talk, "the moon is very important to waterbending, and the Water Tribes as a whole."

"Really?" Bolin asks, surprised. "I guess you learn something new every day." He pauses, trying to look for memories that are so faded, they're no longer there. "I think I do remember something about waterbending... from a story my mom told me once, a long time ago."

"Legend is," she begins, quietly so they don't wake Naga, "the Moon Spirit and the Ocean Spirit—Tui and La—were the original source of waterbending. We learned how to bend the water by watching the moon push and pull the tides. Maybe that's why waterbenders are strongest at night, especially during a full moon." Korra's eyes suddenly darken, and she grimaces. "And before Yakone happened, the full moon was the only time bloodbending could be used."

Bolin bites his lip. His voice is hushed as he asks hesitantly, "Do you ever wish you could, you know... bloodbend?"

Korra abruptly springs up. "What? _No! _I mean..." She pulls her knees against her chest, her brow furrowing. "It's powerful and everything, but it's just... _wrong_."

The earthbender nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I mean, I knew you wouldn't..."

She hesitates. "I think... I don't know, but I think it drives you insane eventually. That kind of bending just... isn't supposed to happen."

He suddenly feels a lot colder. Bolin folds his arms across his chest, his fingers tightening around his parka sleeves. "Right," he says slowly. "Right." Shivering a little, he turns his face slightly so his cheek is resting against Naga's fur. He watches Korra's silhouette against the moonlight move to resume her previous lounging position beside him.

"To be honest," Korra starts again, uncertain, "when I was younger, I kind of wondered about bloodbending. I mean, Katara told me about it and she actually knows the technique. But... I guess now that I've actually _seen_ it and it's been used against me"—she shudders, looks at Bolin—"and against my friends..." Her voice trails off.

Bolin reaches out a hand to squeeze her arm comfortingly, but stops himself just in time. She's already so close—he can feel the radiating warmth of her skin—and it causes something in his chest to ache. At least with her sprawled out next to him again, he's not so cold anymore. "Tell me another story," he finally says, breaking through the pensive silence that had settled between them.

Korra chuckles. "Okay," she says, "okay. Let me tell you something that Katara has recited to me about a billion times... Did you know that, seventy years ago, during the Hundred Year War, the Moon Spirit was killed?" Bolin gasps like a little kid, and she smiles. "It was the work of a crazy Fire Nation admiral who wanted to be remembered in history—well, we still remember him today alright, but not exactly in a flattering way." Korra laughs before continuing. Bolin settles more comfortably against Naga's body. "Anyways, Princess Yue, the daughter of the chief of the Northern Water Tribe, had been touched by the Moon Spirit when she was a baby. The moon gave her life, and when Tui died, Yue sacrificed herself to give it back. Yue became the new Moon Spirit. She saved everybody." Her voice, by the end of the story, is a lot quieter.

"Wow," Bolin breathes. "Was—was Katara there, when all that happened?"

Korra nods. "Yeah... She was there. She and her brother Sokka, and of course, Aang." She bites her lip, hesitating for a split second. "Katara never told me this next part of the story, but I found out from somebody else—Sokka, Katara's brother, fell in love with Yue but she was engaged to another guy in an arranged marriage. Sokka felt her hand slip out of his as she stepped forward to sacrifice herself."

He tries to imagine that—to look up at the shining moon, so remote and beautiful and unreachable, and think about it as the biggest _What if? _in your life. Bolin leans his head back as he mulls over his new feelings of sympathy for Sokka. His eyes suddenly widen, however, as a new thought begins to form in his tired brain. "Your uncle is the chief of the Northern Tribe, right...?"

"Yeah," she replies slowly, not yet understanding what he's getting at.

"So," he whispers, staring at her, "does that mean you're related to Yue? To the moon?"

The teenage Avatar pauses to consider that for a moment, before laughing. "No, Bolin," she says. "I don't think so. I don't think Chief Arnook—Yue's father—had another child after Yue's... After Yue's death."

"Oh." His face drops into a small frown. _Korra's beautiful enough to be part of the moon's family, _he thinks idly to himself, his eyelids drooping closed. _I'll bet Princess Yue was beautiful, too..._

"It's a nice thought though, isn't it?" Korra murmurs, shaking him out of his almost-sleep.

"Yeah," Bolin agrees, "it is." With a small jolt in the pit of his stomach, he realizes, again, how close their faces are. "You're a good storyteller," he says softly.

Korra grins. "Thanks." He can feel her breath against his lips, and for a moment he has the strongest urge to close the tiny distance between their eyes—her smile is just so bright and radiant that he can't help but smile back and start to lean closer. She's just so breathtakingly _Korra._

_And_, something reminds him, _so breathtakingly out of reach_. A vague feeling of hollowness stirs in his chest.

Abruptly, he rips himself away from her, coughing loudly with a blush spreading furiously across his face. "Ahah, yeah... Bedtime stories. Yup." He stretches his arms above his head, his voice a little higher-pitched than normal. "Yeah, I sure have missed those."

Korra laughs quietly, seemingly unaware of what almost happened between them. "So," she says, "do you feel like sleeping now?"

"Maybe just a little," he lies. In truth, he's more on edge than before. Bolin finds himself envying Naga—how can she still be asleep after all that?

"Well," Korra yawns, sitting up, "I think I'm ready to go back to bed."

"Yeah." His voice grows soft. "Yeah, you do that."

She smiles at him, and so quickly that he almost thinks he imagined it, she leans down and kisses him on the cheek, just a feathery brush of her lips against his cold skin. "Good night, Bolin," she says, unusually gentle. Another smile, the sound of a door opening and closing, and she's gone.

A while later, Naga's large, dark eyes peel open and she watches silently as Bolin stands a few feet away, his face turned towards the night sky. "I think," he whispers to himself, "it would hurt less to fall in love with the moon."

* * *

_Written for Borra Week's final prompt: "Moonlight." Wrapping up the week with something quite cheesy. Ayup. I guess you can interpret this as one-sided Borra or not. It doesn't matter to me._


End file.
